


Cellophane

by coreopsis



Series: Lost Horizons [12]
Category: Hard Core Logo (1996)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-09-23
Updated: 2000-09-23
Packaged: 2017-10-15 04:24:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/156997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coreopsis/pseuds/coreopsis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Crushed, Lost Horizons Universe (HCL branch).  Billy has a night out with his bandmate, Taylor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cellophane

Billy stripped off the futuristic designer clothes he'd been given to wear for the shoot, and began to wash the makeup off his face. He did it quickly and mechanically, just as he had for the last three evenings, and then started to put on his own clothes. Just as he was pulling up his jeans, Taylor walked into the dressing room like he owned the place. Billy scowled at him as he zipped up and fastened his belt.

Before he could ask the kid what he wanted, Taylor started talking and moving around the small room, unconsciously graceful even in baggy sweats. "How do you think it went today? Okay? I hope so 'cause I'd hate to have to do any reshoots tomorrow."

"Yeah, me too." Billy said slowly, watching as the younger man poked through a rack of clothes in the corner.

"Hey, at least you didn't spend most of the day *wet*. I'm still cold, and my shoulder hurts where that dancer kicked me." The faintest trace of a whine entered Taylor's voice as he rubbed his left arm through the sleeve of his thick sweatshirt.

Billy rolled his eyes and shrugged into a T-shirt. When his head popped free of his collar, he noticed Taylor was watching his every move. Like he was trying to memorize him. Feeling a little self-conscious, Billy snapped at him, "Teach ya to hit your marks a little more accurately, won't it?"

Taylor stared at Billy, dark eyes widening in surprise. "Yeah, I think I got that when the spike heel nearly went through my arm. Thanks for your concern."

"You don't need my fuckin' concern, kid." Picking up a long sleeved shirt, Billy thrust his arms through the sleeves and buttoned the cuffs. "Plenty of other people will pet you all you want."

"What the hell's your problem?"

Billy sighed and did up the rest of his buttons with slightly trembling fingers. "I'm tired and hungry. I haven't had a smoke in six hours, and I'd appreciate it if you'd knock next time."

"Oh. Yeah, sorry about that." Irritation faded from Taylor's eyes and he grinned sheepishly. "I actually had a reason for coming in here. My agent just called. He got two tickets to that "Save the Music" benefit at Radio City tomorrow, and he encouraged me to bring somebody from the band."

"Yeah?" Billy stepped back as Taylor moved closer. "So take Jenna. She loves that shit and she's more recognizable to the press."

"I don't want to take Jenna. I want to take you." He looked down at his sneakers and cleared his throat. "What I mean is, she's having trouble with Jared again, so she'd be whining about that all night or calling LA on her cell phone to see if he's at home or if he's out somewhere."

"Why don't they just get a divorce and put us all out their misery?" Billy picked up his jacket and patted the pockets to make sure everything was where it should be, and turned to walk out of the room. He ran smack into Taylor who had moved to stand in front of the door.

"Because they still love each other," Taylor replied with youthful innocence that made Billy want to retch, but he settled for deadpan sarcasm.

"Right. How *could* I have forgotten?" Billy stared at the younger man, who still hadn't moved, and sighed. He already knew he was going to give in, but he didn't want to make it too easy. "Who's gonna be there?"

"Rancid, Cowboy Mouth, Three Doors Down, a couple of female singers. I don't know the whole line-up. You don't have to do anything. They just decided they wanted more musicians in the audience for the cameras taping the later broadcast. Same old PR crap." He shrugged, and finally stepped to one side. "I don't know. It's free tickets to a good show, so I'm not worrying about it. You'll come?"

"Yeah. Why not? Now if you don't mind, I have to get out of here." Billy slipped on his sunglasses and walked out of the dressing room and out of the building without a backward glance.

Out on the sidewalk, he nodded to their driver, but didn't get into the car yet. He propped himself up against a low wall and lit a cigarette. He was lighting a fresh one with the butt of the first when a woman in a dark blue business suit walked up and said, "Billy? Billy Tallent?"

"Yes?" He tipped his shades down and gave her a smile, but inside he was hoping she wasn't there to serve him with papers or something.

"I can't believe it. To just run into you on the street like this. It's incredible." She shook her head and just stared at him in amazement.

Billy switched his cigarette to his left hand and held his right out. "What's your name?"

The woman grabbed his hand in both of hers and pumped it several times before dropping it with an embarrassed laugh. "I'm sorry. I'm a little nervous."

"That's okay. I won't bite. Are you a Jenifur fan?"

"Oh hell, no." She blushed and stammered, "That wasn't... Uhm, what I mean... I *loved* Hard Core Logo. Back in the day. Well, and now too, of course, it's just different now without... Oh dear."

Great, he thought, someone else who can't say Joe's name without stumbling over it. He kept smiling, even though he no longer wanted to. "It *is* okay... really. What's your name?"

"Oh, I didn't tell you, did I? It's Penelope, Penelope Jordan. It's so... wow...just *awesome* to meet you in person after seeing you on stage and listening to your albums." She took her briefcase off her shoulder, set it on the wall, and started to rifle through it. "If it's not too much trouble, could I please get your autograph? I know this is so lame and teenagery, but none of my friends will believe that I met you otherwise." She thrust a piece of paper and pen at him. And then followed that with a business card. "And if you ever need any investment advice, give me a call."

Billy took the card and politely stuck it in his pocket. "Thanks, but I already have a financial advisor."

Penelope shrugged elegantly, licked her lips, and blurted out, "Or if you need anything else. I'm not always working."

"I'll keep it in mind." Scribbling his name on the paper, Billy felt someone else approaching. As Taylor stood next to him, Billy watched him out of the corner of his eye while he gave the autograph to the woman. Taylor gawked in amazement as Penelope thanked Billy profusely and then walked away without giving Taylor a second glance.

Billy raised an eyebrow and said, "What? I can't have fans?"

"I didn't say anything," Taylor protested with a big grin. He motioned to the driver waiting patiently and tugged on Billy's arm. "Come on, let's go."

Billy shook Taylor's hand loose and walked to the car, thinking maybe he wasn't as tired as he'd thought. Weird how that worked.

***

"Hey, Billy, look over there--four rows down, on the left." Taylor nudged his arm and leaned close to Billy's ear as he asked, "Is that Ed Robertson? I think it is. Do you know him?"

Billy shot his bandmate an incredulous look as he slipped his sunglasses off and stuck them in his pocket. "No. Why would I?"

"He's Canadian."

"So's Jean Chretien, but I don't know him either." Billy shook his head and muttered, "Freak" as he continued down the aisle, trying not to notice that Taylor was practically plastered against his side.

"Oh? What band is he in? Or is he one of those hockey players I hear so much about?"

"He's the fucking Prime Minister. Damn, Taylor, would it kill you to read a fucking newspaper? I feel like I'm in some kinda Molson commercial."

"I'm kidding, Billy. I know who Chretien is." Taylor nudged Billy with his shoulder as they took their seats. "I'm just fucking with you. Lighten up."

Billy looked around to make sure no one was listening and then whispered, "You know, this isn't a date. I don't *have* to talk to you."

"Aw, come on, Billy. You know you want me."

Taylor laughed until Billy elbowed him sharply in the ribs and said, "Shut the fuck up."

As the show got started, Billy lounged in his seat and projected as much cool as he could while his insides were tied up in knots. He was increasingly afraid the kid was right. Over the last few days, Billy had become intensely physically aware of Taylor, no matter where they were or what they were doing. He'd been trying to ignore him while they were working on the video, but he couldn't help but notice everything the guy did. His eyes were drawn to him, and on occasion, his body tried to follow.

During the commercial break between bands, Billy made up for his incipient inner freak-out by flirting with an actress he'd met briefly when they'd presented an award together at last year's Junos, totally disregarding the fact that she was there with Carson Daly, who was shooting visual daggers at him. When she found out he'd played the Lyric in her hometown of Kitchener, she warmed up even more and told him to give her a call when he got back to LA. At the end of the break, he sat back in his seat and tucked her phone number into the inside pocket of his suit coat. He was not surprised to see Taylor watching him. He was surprised, however, at the disappointment on the guy's face. He looked almost...hurt.

"Guess we won't be debuting the new video on TRL now. Ah, fuck it. Never mind." Taylor shook his head and shut up as the hostess came out on stage and introduced the next band. Billy breathed a sigh of relief that was lost in the onslaught of rock and roll, and he allowed himself to slip into the music, almost as if he were the one up on stage.

Taylor started talking as soon as the next break began. He spoke low, asked questions, and looked directly into Billy's eyes, so that Billy was more or less forced to pay attention. The conversation ranged from music techniques and critiques of various musicians that had played to more gossipy talk about which celebrities were in attendance and who their companions were. Billy held up his end of the conversation honestly and with little elaboration, thinking that as a way of staking claim, this method was relatively painless. Certainly better than some marking behavior he'd been subjected to in his life.

One of these days he was going to take what was being offered. Then they'd see if Taylor really wanted it like he thought he did. Did he know what it was like being with someone vastly more fucked up than him? And really, it wouldn't take much to be more fucked up than he was. Did he know what it was like to be held down and held on to, even if he was ready to move on? Did the kid have any clue what it was like to have such strong feelings for somebody that it went beyond love and hate? Not just wanting to have sex with the person, but having him twisted up inside you where you could never ever get him out? No, probably not, and would he want to? Would *Billy* want that knowledge if he could go back and do it over again?

Yes, God help him, he would. He wouldn't change any of it because everything he'd been through made him who he was now. He didn't know anything else. He knew most of his demons now, even if he still had to struggle to keep the upper hand with them. There was a particular little demon on his shoulder right now telling him that this wasn't about Joe anymore, that Billy could do worse than Taylor, might even have fun with Taylor. After all, the boy wanted what Billy had so...

Why not give it to him? Just this once. A trial offer, so to speak. As the next band took the stage and started counting into their current single, Billy considered telling Taylor what he'd just decided, but he didn't. Let the kid keep worrying about it, he thought as he sat back and listened to the music.

When the show was over, Billy stood up and stretched. A tight, controlled movement that brought him up against Taylor's side. He immediately apologized, not even bothering to sound sincere. "Why don't we skip the party?"

"Sure." Taylor frowned but stepped out into the aisle where he stopped because of the crowd. When Billy came up against his back, he brushed against his ass lightly as if by accident. Taylor turned and looked at him with a delighted smile that quickly faded as Billy winked at the Canadian actress.

Billy kept the kid in his sight as they made their way out of the auditorium. Every time Billy smiled or spoke to someone, Taylor noticed and Billy felt another little spike of satisfaction. Ordinarily, jealousy at this point would be a bad sign, but Billy needed to keep an edge. In order for this thing to work at all, it couldn't be cool and studied. The sharper and more desperate the encounter, the easier it would be to justify or explain away later. It was an old, old trick.

Climbing into the limo, Billy told the driver to take them back to the hotel then shut the privacy door over the little window. Glancing out the darkly tinted windows at the barely moving traffic, Billy could tell they wouldn't be getting to the hotel *too* soon. He turned to Taylor and pinned him to his seat with a stare. Billy didn't blink or break eye contact until Taylor was nearly squirming in a deer caught in headlights way. "Billy?"

Billy smiled and let his gaze travel lazily from Taylor's mouth to his throat, to the smooth strip of chest showing between the open buttons of his silk shirt, and then down the long length of his black-leather clad legs. He reversed the trip, this time pausing for a long stare at the leather stretched tightly across Taylor's crotch. The kid had certainly gone out of his way to look fuckable tonight. Billy didn't spend every waking moment thinking about fucking guys, but there was something inviting about having a man spread out for the taking, a little power play that he couldn't bring himself to indulge in with women.

Raising his eyes back up to Taylor's face, Billy noticed the stunned look was fading as an eager little smile took its place. Billy opened the mini-refrigerator and took out a bottle of water. He offered Taylor one, but the other man shook his head as fiddled with the stereo. A few seconds later, the sound of Metallica, with that orchestra thing they did a while back, filled the limo. Taylor cranked up the volume and moved across the plush seat, his long legs stretching out to rub up against Billy's. The smell of leather and expensive aftershave and the thumping, soaring strains of Taylor's choice of make-out music combined in a sensory rush that went straight to Billy's groin, making the blood pound in his rapidly hardening cock.

Amused and turned on by the whole rock star trip they were on--only things missing were the champagne and groupies--Billy had the insane urge to call up Joe and tell him that you just don't get this in the back of a taxi. And when that thought didn't hurt like it should have, *would* have not too long ago, he refused to consider why. He didn't have time to think about it if he was going to take advantage of this controlled environment, so he took a sip of cold water, and then set the bottle aside. "So you've suddenly decided you want me."

Taylor twitched a shoulder and said, "Not all that sudden. You just didn't notice."

Billy didn't ask for clarification because he didn't want to know. He looked away for a moment from the dark eyes probing at him, trying to see into him or make *him* see... something. It made him uncomfortable and it threatened to ruin a perfectly good casual fuck, until he snapped out of the weird mood he was about to descend into. Control, Billy, just keep control, he thought. He reached out and gently took Taylor's face in his hand and leaned in. Almost close enough to kiss, but not quite. "Why don't you suck my dick then? Right here, right now."

"Okay," Taylor breathed as he pressed his lips to Billy's mouth, which opened in surprise, allowing his tongue to dart in for a quick taste. Billy's eyes slipped closed and his hand burrowed into Taylor's thick hair as the other man's mouth moved down his throat and his hands went to work on Billy's pants. The fumbling fingers on his fly had Billy shifting impatiently and wondering if he should just do it himself, and then it was done. Cool, conditioned air drifted over his hot throbbing skin, just as the lips sucking at his collarbone withdrew and a few seconds later took his cock in one smooth wet glide.

With a quickly cut-off whimper, Billy leaned back, took a deep breath, and tried not to come too quickly, but it was hard...so *hard* and so long since anything but playing music had felt this good. He wanted to thrust deeper, all the way down Taylor's throat and just come. He wanted to pull back and make it last. With physical desires and sensations--suction and heat, lust and long-delayed gratification-- tugging him in so many different directions, he was shocked when his brain abruptly kicked into high gear.

Suddenly he was wondering whether this was a mistake or one of the better things that had ever happened to him. Then came the worry about what Taylor was thinking and wanting and *expecting*. And with only a vague idea of what he needed to say, Billy started talking, mostly to calm his own dawning panic. "Listen kid... *Taylor*...this is just...uhhh, fucking good. No, no, that's not what I-- This is just for now, 'k? Just a New York thing. When we--oh, oh, okay yeah, that's...when we get back to LA, we go back to...mmmm."

Billy gave up and fell under the spell Taylor was weaving with his skilled mouth and his roving hands, one of which settled lightly over his mouth. Billy opened his mouth and let a couple of fingers slip between his lips, licking at the slick surface of the painted nails and the soft skin at the tips, then sucking them in deeper, trying to match Taylor's movements on his cock.

They finally settled into a groove that worked for both of them and it felt just like music, rhythm and melody blending in perfect harmony into a brand new tune. When he felt his climax speeding down his spine and gathering in his balls, Billy took Taylor's fingers out of his mouth so he wouldn't accidentally bite and pressed them to his closed lips. They muffled the loud groan as he came in a long hard spurt down Taylor's throat. With a slight shudder, Billy dropped Taylor's hand and released the death grip on his hair, smoothing it a little before he withdrew.

Taylor tucked Billy back into his clothes and sat up, reaching for the bottle of water that Billy had abandoned earlier. He took a long drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smirking at Billy the whole time.

Largely ignoring the other man, Billy was in the process of withdrawing completely into himself when Taylor suddenly leaned over and took Billy's face in his hands and planted a long, wet kiss on Billy's mouth. Then he sat back and said in a husky, amused voice, "You didn't think I'd do it, did you?"

"If I didn't, I'm not gonna admit it." Billy rubbed his tingling lips together and looked out the window. They were getting close to the hotel, so now was the time to decide what would happen next. He could leave the kid frustrated with little or no guilt. He could do that, but it might be easier and make for a better working relationship if he took him upstairs and fucked him stupid. Leave him with a big smile on his face and a great memory of his first real trip to New York.

"You know that whatever else happens, this has to be a one time thing."

"I don't know why." Taylor ran one hand through his hair and drank some more water, and Billy tried not to be distracted by the line of his throat as he swallowed.

"Don't play stupid. We work together and this--" He gave a little wave of his hand that encompassed both of their groins. "This isn't worth fucking up the music for." Billy shook his head and looked out the window. "Trust me on that if nothing else."

Taylor sighed and said, "I could go into the whole 'it doesn't have to be that way' song and dance but you already know that."

"Yeah, and I could try to act noble and say that I'm just trying not to hurt you and screw up the band." Billy smiled a little as he admitted, "But you'd just tell me I'm full of shit."

"Yes, I would because you would be." Taylor grinned and patted Billy on the leg as the limo glided to a smooth stop at the curb in front of the hotel. "Why don't we finish this discussion in my room?"

Watching his good intentions fly right out the window, Billy let out a long breath and nodded slowly. "Yeah, all right."

Just before he opened the door, Taylor added, "Naked."

Wanting the kid to understand the situation fully, Billy reached across Taylor's body and put his hand over the door handle. Then he looked him in the eye and said in a low serious voice, "If you get naked with me, I *will* fuck you."

"Well, that'd be the point of getting naked, wouldn't it?" Taylor reached down to adjust his half-hard cock inside his pants and arrange the loose tails of his shirt in front of it, brushing against Billy as much as possible in the process. "I'm not asking you up for platonic skinny-dipping in the bathtub."

"And it still won't change a damned thing when we go back to LA."

"Yeah, okay, whatever. Let's go before the driver comes back here to see what the problem is."

Billy shook his head and let him open the door, knowing that Taylor didn't believe him. Billy couldn't blame him because he wasn't sure he believed it himself. But he wanted to.

He really wanted to believe it. Nothing had to change.

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Lori J, Barb G, and Feklar for excellent beta which made this a lot more readable.


End file.
